Beer and Babies
by MelGayPet
Summary: With his daughter and Kyle both in his life, Oliver Fish's life is nearly perfect. But he wouldn't be Oliver if he didn't still have a few nagging issues. Maybe being a sounding board for Layla will help them both. One-shot.


**A/N: **I was inspired to write this by OfficerFishKyle's fanfic. If you haven't read those stories, you should. They're good. And of course, by the characters of Oliver Fish and Kyle Lewis. This was _supposed _to be a Kish fic, but Layla kind of took over. I don't mind, I love her, too. And I think Kyle is definitely here in spirit!

* * *

Oliver Fish carefully poured warm water over his daughter's head, shielding her eyes as he rinsed away the last of the baby shampoo. Sierra Rose squealed in delight, excitedly slapping the water with her little hands. He grinned down at her, struck yet again at how contagious her joy was. Oliver didn't have much experience with babies, but nearly everyone he knew who did had exclaimed over what a happy baby Sierra was.

"Up we go, sweetie," he said, lifting her out of the little plastic tub and wrapping her in a towel. "All nice and clean now, huh?" As he gently toweled the giggling baby off, an unexpected memory intruded: his mom laughing as she described how he had loved bath time as a baby, "as only befits a little Fish," she'd always say, eyes crinkling with affection as she smiled at him.

Oliver held Sierra closer, feeling his chest tighten painfully. He'd spoken to his mother a few times in the last several months – short, awkward phone calls he suspected his dad knew nothing about – but he hadn't told her about Sierra Rose. Yet. He frankly had no idea how to even start _that _conversation. _Hey Mom and Dad, I know my being gay is the biggest disappointment of your lives, would it make you feel any better to know I knocked up a_ _stripper in a drunken one-night stand and she froze to death in a lake after giving birth to your granddaughter in the middle of a blizzard? Wanna see some baby pictures?_

He snorted at the snarky tone of his own thoughts, and Sierra twisted around to look at him. She smiled her wide, toothless smile and reached up to pat him on the chin, as if in sympathy. He felt his eyes smart as he smiled back. His parents' rejection was a constant aching throb that he had more-or-less gotten used to, but the idea of them rejecting Sierra, who was beautiful and _perfect_, caused a hot, protective anger to start bubbling up – the same anger he had felt outside the Statesville infirmary where crazy Allison held Sierra and Schuyler Joplin hostage to help the sociopathic Mitch Laurence escape. How had Kyle put it? _"Paternal. You feel paternal."_

The thought of his boyfriend made Oliver glance automatically at his watch. He suppressed a sigh. Kyle would be studying at the med school library for at least a few more hours. "We miss him, don't we, munchkin?" he said to Sierra, who was now gumming the edge of the towel. "But he has to pass his exams if he's gonna be a full-fledged doctor. Which we know he will, because he's the smartest, right?"

Kyle had suggested more than once that Oliver tell his parents about the baby, but, uncharacteristically, hadn't pushed. Then again, between the whirlwind of both their jobs, moving Oliver and Sierra into Kyle's small apartment, learning on the fly how to take care of a baby, and now Kyle's brutal study schedule; neither one of them had the energy or inclination for heavy conversations. Maybe in a few weeks, after Kyle graduated, he'd go in for the hard sell. Oliver didn't bother to suppress his sigh this time. It could be highly frustrating when Kyle believed he understood Oliver's feelings better than he did himself, but on the other hand… "He _does _have an annoying tendency of being right," he confided to their daughter. "Don't tell him I said so, though." She made a small noise Oliver took for agreement.

A knock at the door broke him out his thoughts. Shifting the baby's weight to one arm, he crossed the apartment to open the door, revealing Layla Williamson on the other side. Oliver blinked, surprised.

"Hey," she said, grinning at him as she walked in and waved at the baby. "And hey there, Miss Sierra Rose!"

"Hey, Layla," he returned, closing the door. "What are you doing here?"

She put on a mock-affronted expression. "Do I need a reason to come visit my favorite roommate?"

He shook his head and laughed. "No, of course not. But I'm your favorite? Does Cris know that?" he teased.

A shadow passed over Layla's beautiful face, gone almost before he could notice. "Excuse you," she drawled. "I was talking about Sierra Rose." She reached out and lifted the baby out of his arms, towel and all, and swung her around, laughing along with her.

Oliver was spared thinking of a reply to that shadow, whatever it was, when Layla spoke again. "You're looking gorgeous as always, Miss Sierra, but just a little underdressed."

"She just had a bath," he explained, unnecessarily. "Here, give her to me, I'll get her diaper on and…"

She waved him off. "I can do it. I took care of Jamie Vega enough when she was little."

He didn't argue, just sank onto the couch and watched her, concerned. While she was laughing and cooing at the baby, he could see the tension in the line of her neck and back.

"Have you heard from Antonio lately? He and Jamie are all right?"

"Oh, yeah," she answered, distractedly. "He talks to Cristian every few days or so. They're both fine. They still miss Talia, of course. But they're good." She glanced over at him for a brief instant, lips pressed tight together, before turning back to finish getting the diaper on the wiggling Sierra.

Oliver only nodded. He had liked and respected Officer Sayid, but she had been Layla's friend, as well as her roommate before him. He turned his mind back to the mystery that had just appeared literally at his doorstep. So, the problem had something to do with Cristian, but not the Vega family… his stomach twisted. He was opening his mouth to ask Layla about her sister when she pre-empted him.

"Oliver!" she cried in exasperation, holding the baby in one arm as she rummaged through the pile of clean baby clothes with the other. "Does _everything_ this child owns have fish on it?"

He groaned, letting his head fall back on the couch. "Don't blame me! Kyle and Roxy have this contest going, to see who can get her more 'fish stuff.' The more ridiculous, the better. I mean, look at this…" he sat up, looking around. Finding what he sought on the coffee table in front of him, he seized it and held it aloft for inspection. "Look at it!"

She did, and made a small, choked noise.

"On second thought, don't," Oliver continued. "I'm pretty sure looking directly at this thing can make you go blind." 'This thing' was a stuffed fish, striped with the most garish shades of green, purple, and orange imaginable. Over Layla's shoulder, Sierra Rose caught sight of her favorite toy and gurgled in pleasure.

"Um," Layla bit her lip. "Roxy, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah," he nodded. He then went on to describe the expression on Kyle's face when he realized how much Sierra liked Roxy's gift, and his promises (threats) to find another stuffed fish even more eye-wateringly ugly; until Layla was laughing so hard she had to abandon her search to hold onto Sierra with both hands as she nearly doubled over. Sierra laughed gleefully along with her.

"Sure, you think it's funny," he growled at her, secretly pleased at having cheered her up. "But I have to live with it! This place is tiny enough, without those two buying every fish-themed item they can find. We'll be drowning in 'em soon."

"Pun intended, I assume?" she asked, still giggling. He made a face at her. She grinned widely, and shifting Sierra to her hip, turned back to the baby clothes. "Oh, here's something non-fishy but still aquatic. Ducks!"

"Oh, yeah," he said, glancing at the onesie in her hand. "Gigi and Rex gave her that one."

Layla rolled her eyes. "Well, it'll do for now. But you and I are going to have to go shopping, aren't we, little miss? Especially since your dads spit in the face of gay stereotypes by having _no_ sense of style."

"Hey!" Oliver protested, ignoring the silent commentary on Gigi and Rex. He knew Layla wasn't a big fan of either one.

"Don't even try," she said, arching an eyebrow at him. "Or are you forgetting who had to dress you for your first date with Kyle?"

"Well, whatever," he muttered. "Kyle doesn't care what I wear. Besides, he always looks good," he added, because it was true.

"Hm." She snorted, trying to snap the onesie around Sierra's kicking legs. "Kyle's usually in scrubs and you're usually in your uniform. Makes you both look hot, but it doesn't require _style._ Sierra is going to need someone to teach her that, and that's what Auntie Layla is here for. All right, wiggle-fish, you're done! Want to go back to Daddy now?"

He stood up. "Hang on to her for a minute, will you? I need to fix her a bottle."

"I can do it," she said again. He shook his head, handing his daughter her much-maligned toy. "It'll just take a minute. Go ahead, sit down."

While preparing the formula, Oliver surreptitiously observed his friend. Sitting on the couch with the baby on her lap, nothing to busy herself with, all of Layla's good humor seemed to have fled. She looked tired and sad, Oliver thought, and his concern increased. He grabbed two beers on his way back to the couch.

"How about a bottle for all of us?" he joked, popping the top on one and handing it to her. She accepted it with a faint smile, but said nothing. She took a swig before setting it down and taking the formula from him. Sierra Rose greeted her bottle with a great deal more enthusiasm and began drinking greedily. Layla sighed softly and leaned back into the couch.

Guessing hadn't worked, but there was something to be said for the direct approach. "What's wrong?"

She kept her eyes on the baby. Just when he thought she wasn't going to answer him, she spoke. "You know what happened to Jessica Buchanan."

He shuddered. The night Sierra was born had been horrific in so many ways. He still had nightmares about it. The worst, and most frequent, was of something that hadn't happened: Sierra Rose sinking into freezing water, trapped under ice, with him as helpless to save her as he had been her mother. He'd wake from those and have to stumble over to her crib, staring at her long enough to make sure she was still alive, still his, before letting Kyle coax him back to bed. But in others, Mitch Laurence and his equally deranged nurse played starring roles. He hadn't spoken about those to Kyle. He wrenched his attention back to Layla.

"So because she doesn't remember anything past seventeen, her doctors and her family have sent her back to high school," she was saying, every word dripping with _not impressed._ "And since Cristian's teaching there now, and last she remembers she was dating Cris, she's _all over him_. Constantly. And getting in the face of any woman he's been with since. Me, her sister, she even stepped to Blair Cramer, can you believe that?"

Not really, he couldn't. He didn't know Blair well, but like the rest of the so-called "Cramer Women," she didn't strike him as one to suffer fools. But … "Wait, Cristian was _with_ Blair? When? I thought they were friends!"

"They _are_ friends. It was just once, years ago, when he was broken up with Vange," Layla shook her head impatiently, dismissing the digression. "Not the point. Jessica is running around high school, thinking that she's seventeen years old and my man is her personal property and not taking a fucking hint!"

Her voice had gotten louder and more angry as she spoke, until she broke off, glancing from the baby, who was still intent on her bottle, to Oliver with an apologetic look. He smiled reassuringly. "She can't understand you. Or at least Kyle better hope so."

"Kyle, huh?" she said, mouth curling up in a sly smile. "Because you never swear, right, Officer Fish?"

He donned his most angelic expression and she laughed outright. He smiled at her, glad to have shaken her from her dispirited mood. A good rant was better than that.

She shifted the baby on her lap, and reached for her beer. "So," she said, taking a healthy swallow. "That's what's been going on."

Oliver followed suit. "Yeah, that sounds pretty bad. But, come on, you don't think anything is actually going to happen, do you? Cris loves you, Layla."

"I know," she said firmly. "And I trust him. Even if he were going to cheat on me, like he did Sarah – which he wouldn't – it wouldn't be with Jessica, not in the state she's in now. I may want to knock her teeth down her throat, but she's sick, and it would take a special kind of creep to take advantage of that. Cristian's not that guy."

Oliver nodded in agreement. "But?"

"But," she sighed. She gestured with her beer bottle, trying to find the words. "There's history there. And Cristian's got a soft spot for Jessica, always has. Did you know," she continued, with a wry twist of her mouth. "When Jessica was married to Antonio and cheating on him with Nash, Cris found out and covered for her?"

He shook his head, startled. "Antonio's his brother, why the hell would he do that?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'm not sure _he_ knows why. But for whatever reason, Jessica is the type who makes people want to protect her, even from her own shit."

Oliver thought suddenly of Kyle: flinching as Oliver called him a "freak" and still looking back at him with compassion; later, yelling at him for trying to torpedo his relationship with Nick in one breath and offering to go somewhere to talk him down the next; even later still, risking his entire medical career to keep him from making a terrible mistake. He squirmed, not particularly comfortable with the comparison.

Layla didn't seem to notice. "And I know I sound like a complete bitch, but I get that this isn't all her fault. What that bastard Mitch Laurence did to her was _evil_, and I hope he rots."

"Me, too," he said fervently.

"She didn't choose to have amnesia or a psycho father. I can't exactly ask Cris not to be nice to someone he cares about when she's going through something terrible. But … she's _awful_! She's bitchy and rude and I'm sorry, but she doesn't seem to be suffering much to me. She's running around having a high old time, acting like she's starring in her own fourth-rate teen movie, while everyone around her is going through hell!"

"I know what you mean," Oliver said thoughtfully. "Brody… he doesn't talk about it much, at least not around the station. But you can see it's been wearing on him a lot."

"Exactly!" she cried. "Brody's a good guy and he loves her! I know she doesn't remember him, but she does know that they were together. I can't imagine how messed up this whole thing is for her, but can she at least act with a little friggin' decency? Compassion? Not treat everyone in the world like crap? I keep wanting to ask Cris if this is what she was really like when they were together, and what was he thinking, because good lord, is she a Mean Girl bitch!"

She seemed to deflate after this outburst, all the anger seeping out of her. "You know who I really feel bad for?" she asked, her voice much smaller. She looked down at Sierra Rose, jiggling her just a little. The bottle had slipped out of the baby's mouth and her eyes were drooping. "Bree."

Oliver blanked for a second, but then he remembered. "Jessica's daughter."

Layla nodded, eyes brimming. "Yeah. She's just a little tiny girl, and I keep thinking that she must be so scared and confused. Amnesia or not, Jessica is still her mother. She doesn't even seem to care." Her voice and face iced over. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

Before he could ask what _that_ meant, she softened, tearing up again. Seemingly almost unconsciously, she cuddled Sierra closer and pressed a kiss against her wispy hair.

Oliver almost couldn't breathe past the lump in his throat. Unable to speak, and having no idea what to say anyway, he turned to draw both his friend and his motherless daughter into his arms. Layla leaned her head against his shoulder and sniffled. He held her as she cried and thought about Jessica and Bree, Talia and Jamie, Stacy and Sierra Rose, even Layla and Mrs. Williamson. He brushed his fingers over his sleeping baby's head and thought hard about how close he came to never knowing her. How close he let her come to never knowing him or Kyle. He breathed out suddenly, the lump dissolving.

Kyle would be home soon. He'd be worn out from studying so hard, but Oliver doubted he'd mind Layla hanging out with them tonight. Kyle understood friendship better than anyone Oliver had ever met. Layla would be all right, too, he knew. She was nothing if not resilient.

Tomorrow… maybe he'd call his parents.


End file.
